In my days of monotony, work, mothering, domesticity, I yearn for the exalted existence, for beauty. Sometimes I can find the time to create; most of the time, I can't and it kills me. That's what's happening in this piece (left); there is a tightness, a gut-wrenching aspect, but also something ethereal, something divine, something lovely. I think that's what creativity is: it's the work, the churning, the suffering, the yearning, the knots, and then, the release, the unraveling, the denouement, the divinity, the manifestation. Epiphany. Beauty. One percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration. That sort of thing.
More ethereal work to follow.
No matter what age we become, we can always feel this. Wisdom has taught me to find the time for beauty and reflection, to step out of time and into the infinite everyday because it’s always there waiting patiently to receive us.
ReplyDeleteWell said, Cousin.
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